


Compromise

by Hadithi_After_Hours



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Aromantic Connie, Asexual Steven Universe, BDSM dynamics, Bisexual Connie Maheswaran, Consent, F/M, Relationship Talks, Sex Positive Asexuality, panromantic Steven
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:07:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22125346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadithi_After_Hours/pseuds/Hadithi_After_Hours
Summary: Steven comes out as asexual to Connie. With a lot of communication and compromise, they find ways to make it work.Just a fluffy fic with smutty undertones, showing a validating, comforting allo/ace relationship.
Relationships: Connie Maheswaran/Steven Universe
Comments: 29
Kudos: 134





	1. Coming Out

Now that they were in their twenties, both in college, and regularly had time alone - Steven and Connie had tried sex a few times. And, mostly, it was okay. The cuddling after was wonderful, and the things they said during it were wonderful, but the sex itself had felt just a little bit off. Connie was starting to research online, but Steven had done some research of his own. And, by this point, he was pretty sure what the problem was. He was pretty sure it was him. And he was pretty sure they needed to talk about it.

He sat down with her in his empty home, holding her hands as they sat on the couch. He swallowed hard and began, "I've been thinking about it a lot, with everything we've been doing, and, uh... I'm asexual."

"Okay. I’m guessing you’re pretty sure." She looked down at their held hands and gave a squeeze. Steven looked nervous, barely able to stop himself from fidgeting, and the sight of it was already making her stomach twist with anxiety. There was a sinking feeling in her chest, the worry that they had finally hit an insurmountable roadblock, but she pushed ahead. "I know I’m not. I like sex and I want sex so… so tell me what asexual means for you."

"Well, um, I don't..." He trailed off as he searched for the words, and she waited without prodding. Already this was going better than he had dared to hope. Researching about coming out hadn’t been nothing but feel good stories. Not nasty stories, mostly. But some things were insurmountable. Some things meant you were fundamentally incompatible. And he was worried that just the word asexual at all would be a dealbreaker. He should have known Connie would at least hear him out. He should’ve prepared better.

Steven finally found his words. "I don't find anyone attractive. I don't see anyone and want to have sex with them. There's no drive for it, you know? If you didn't want sex, I'd just deal with stuff myself.” Her rushed the next words out, seeing her start to wince, “But I like it! I like sex. I like sex with you, because I love you and it's fun. I love making you feel good and making you happy. And it even feels good for me a lot of times! But it's like having a tickle fight or cuddling or having a romantic dinner. There's not some kind of deep urge or anything, you know?"

Connie thought about that for a moment, then nervously asked, "You like having sex with me?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"But you don't ever really want sex yourself?" she clarified.

Another nod. "Exactly."

"So, when we do have sex..." She hesitated a moment, choosing her words carefully before continuing, "You would want to do all the stuff I like and focus on me, because you don't really care about it, but you like how it makes me feel?"

He hummed, then nodded. "More or less. I mean, I’m still a person with limits and everything. If you wanted some, uh, kink stuff, there’s probably going to be limits I don’t want."

She crossed her arms as she mused on that. The fact that she let go of his hands was nerve wracking, but she didn’t look scared or mad or any kind of emotion that suggested the breakup he feared was coming. Finally, Connie smiled and leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Okay. That seems workable! I don't have to give up sex forever, you won't be uncomfortable. Maybe we can actually get good at it now that we’re talking about this. How often do you think you could take it? Once a month?"

He laughed, remembering the frequency of their makeouts and exploration before they had finally started having sex. "That seems kinda low for you. Maybe if we schedule it and I'm ready for it, everything is clear... Once a week, maybe?"

Her eyes went wide. "That much? Really?"

"Well, yeah. I said it's fun, Con-" Steven didn't get to finish, as she threw her arms around him with a happy squeal. His face was peppered with happy kisses - his forehead, his temples, his eyes and cheeks. Making out wasn’t anything extra special (though it could be its own kind of fun), but being drowned in physical affection was always enough to make his heart skip a beat. He giggled, hugging her close and nuzzling into her hair. "So this works for you?"

"It works," she said, her voice a little shaky as she hid her face against his neck. "It's great. It's so great, Steven, and you're great."

His eyes got a little misty too, and he gave her a squeeze. "Were you scared for a second?”

“Yeah,” Connie confessed quietly. “You too?”

“Really scared.” He gulped again and leaned back to look up at her face. There were a couple wet spots drying already. “You’re not just agreeing because you’re scared, right? Scheduled sex is okay? Me not being... You know, attracted to you is okay?"

"You know I love organizing.” She laughed a little at her joke, then looked a little more serious. Her thumbs stroked gently over his cheeks. “And, with the last part, it'll be a little hard. I won't lie. I'll need reminders that you think I'm beautiful, that you love me. But you're Steven, you can make anyone feel loved and special."

He turned his head to kiss her palm, caressing it softly with his own. "You are loved and special."

"So are you." She kissed his forehead, then locked her eyes seriously onto his. "I love you so much, no matter what. Thank you for telling me, Steven. Thank you for working with me."

"Thank you for staying," he said back gently, and kissed her. 

She purred, melting eagerly into his arms, sliding up on his lap, when she suddenly stopped. That was something new. Normally, any start of a kiss led to deeper things, faster things, with a lot of roaming hands and noises. But this time she cut it short, pulling back once again to go back to talk. He couldn’t deny there was a brief flash of guilt, worry that she was already changing for him, and her words didn’t help much either. 

“If you’re going to be doing all this for me, there’s got to be something I can do for you, right?” She grinned from her spot above him, bouncing eagerly in his lap. “You’re so sweet, giving up all that time for me. Let me do something for you.”

“It’s not that much,” he said cheerfully. “I just wanna make you happy.”

She tweaked his nose. “The feeling’s mutual, silly. So tell me what I can do for you. Something I don’t normally do! Anything you like. I’ll try to put in the work like you are.”

The thought leapt instantly to his mind, but he quieted it and pushed it away. “I don’t know if there’s anything.”

“Yes, there is,” Connie said, very bemused. “ It was all over your face. Spill it.”

Steven’s beloved girlfriend was not a fan of schmaltz. Admittedly, part of him had hoped it would be something she’d eventually grow into. He had hoped that, one day, she might take her writing skills and send him love letters and poems. He thought she might take her drawing skills and sketch some romantic pictures, or doodle hearts. He thought that, maybe, she would one day appreciate the appeal of desperate love confessions and intimate picnics. But if Steven felt no drive for sex, Connie seemed to have no drive for romance.

He confessed all of it in a blushing rush and at the end said, “So can I have that? Love notes and silly stuff like that? As much as you want. But you don’t have to if you don’t want-”

She brought his hand to her lips, her face open and expressive just for him as she whispered, “I carry your heart with me. I carry it in my heart. I am never without it. Anywhere I go you go, my dear. And whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling.”

He could feel the flush on his face, the stars in his eyes as he stared at her. “What was that?” Aside from everything he ever wanted, aside from the most wonderful thing in the world that made him feel loved and cared for and happy that she cared so much she would whip out poetry just because he asked her to.

“E. E. Cummings. I have a minor in English. I have loads of poems memorized, Steven.” She grinned and winked. “And I’m  _ really good  _ at memorizing. If you want romance, I’ll give you romance.”

He returned, “And if you want fucking, I’ll give you fucking.”

She choked and laughed. “Mmm… no. It’s so weird to hear you say that. But, uh, if we’re talking about fucking… does this mean that you’re not that concerned about having your penis involved?”

“Uh, not really.” He idly gestured between his legs. “I kinda, uh… I’d rather take care of all that myself? It’s just faster and easier. I mean, I guess sex kinda feels better but… it’s just a lot more work. Why?”

Connie fidgeted with her hands. “Because, um, if you don’t care, I like other stuff better? Like hands. And mouth. And toys. So, I don’t wanna be greedy or anything and not let you have any fun, but if you don’t want to...”

He smiled. “Okay. We’ll try all that stuff on Sex Day Saturday.”

Connie giggled, wrapping her arms tight around him. “And I’ll try to be more romantic.”

And things were off to a wonderful start.


	2. Insecurity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex still isn't working great, and Connie has a confession.

Connie was great at this romance stuff, and it was honestly killing him a little. Connie woke up earlier than him, and every morning he’d find a little post-it note by his toothbrush. It wasn’t something especially fancy, but just little words of encouragement for the day. Sometimes it was something like, “You’re gonna nail that test!” and sometimes it was “I hope you have a great day!” and sometimes it was just “I love you” with a little heart doodled in, and every single one made him smile. Just like the pictures she sent when she saw pretty flowers, or the reservations she made for romantic restaurants. It was all amazing.

And Steven was… maybe still not great at sex? Sex was technically better. He wasn’t forcing himself to do the whole penetration thing. But getting Connie off was slow going, unless they forced it with a powerful wand they had bought, and that never seemed to be much fun. More than half the time, after a lot of effort, Connie would awkwardly suggest they stop, and say she’d just take care of it later, and they’d be romantic and cuddly and warm. Steven was sure she was going to get sick of it. He was sure it was his fault.

After a long, sweaty session, his jaw aching, they lay naked on top of the covers. Even if it wasn’t too much for her, it was getting to be too much for him. They had already broken their weekly rule with much more frequent attempts, and frustration was seeping in as he became more and more determined each time to do a good job. Connie insisted she didn’t mind, but so often it felt like his presence made her struggle to get off rather than help. This was something she wanted. Something she _needed_. And, he was starting to think that maybe he just couldn’t give it.

Despair was an odd kind of feeling, resigned to being a failure, all hollowed out and empty, he suggested, "Maybe someone who's heterosexual-"

"I think you mean allosexual," she corrected automatically, her voice was just a bit terse. He understood that. Trying to cum and failing for a while could put anyone in a sour mood. But she winced straight away. "Sorry. Go ahead."

"No, it's okay," he said with a nervous smile. "Allosexual. Maybe they could help you more. Maybe they could take care of you.” She went stiff beside him. “Because, I mean, I don't know how well this is working. You're struggling and I'm struggling and maybe if you... We could open-"

"No!" Connie yelped as he fully spelled it out. His eyes widened at her intensity, the way she gripped him tightly. "I'm sorry, just... No. Please. Maybe some day. It doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world, I guess. But I waited so long to be with you, and I just want you.”

They were sweaty, which was kind of gross, but the intimacy was still nice - clothes or no clothes. He tucked her into him, cradling her head against his pounding heart. He wished that was enough, but it wasn’t. Because none of this was working. His voice cracked a little as he said, “But you’re getting frustrated, and I’m not doing a good job.”

“I don’t think that’s it," she whimpered, voice muffled against his chest.

"What's wrong?" he asked, squeezing her close. "I... I want to be with you, but if you need someone who's allosexual, I understand. I don't want you to miss out because of me."

She looked up at him, eyes wide with worry. She shook her head and clung to him, kissing adoringly, desperately, over his shoulders and neck and cheek. "No, Steven! It's not that. I could never miss out with you! You're doing so great. It doesn't feel like you're... I don't mean..." The kisses stopped and she sighed, rolling away from him. He frowned, turning his head to look at her as he puzzled over the abrupt end in the cuddles. She stared at the ceiling for a few minutes, her eyes moving back and forth like there was something up there to read. Finally, she took a deep breath and sighed, "Steven, I think it's me."

"You?" he blinked. “But you like sex.”

"Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. It’s still…you know, it’s a skill. It takes practice. And I don’t know if I’m…normal,” she began, voice halting and awkward. “You’re very loving. It’s almost like you’re worshipping me. Literally everything you do is focused on me and it’s… It should be amazing. It’s so romantic and caring and loving, but it feels weird. I’m not used to that kind of thing. I think it’s kind of giving me stage fright?” She laughed awkwardly. “Gosh, that’s dumb. But it’s true, and I've been thinking of a fix for a while."

Steven had rolled on his side to look at her, propping his head up on a hand as he stared. Her face was starting to get red, to his surprise, and it made him laugh a little. "Okay. What's the fix?"

"I...” She cleared her throat. Her hands fidgeted over her belly. “Have some stuff. That I like."

"Oh! Fetishes." His smile grew. That made perfect sense.

Connie choked immediately. He had never seen her so flushed, so embarrassed looking. He sat up a little more, looking down at her with confusion plastered across his face. They had been so open about everything. It was so rare they hesitated to talk about anything at all, that she would ever be ashamed with him for anything. But her voice was strangled and high, and she looked away from the ceiling to avoid meeting his eyes. It was actually kind of… cute? Connie wasn’t normally very cute like that. "Yeah. I guess you could call them that. I don't suppose you have any of those?"

He shrugged, a slightly awkward chuckle escaping him. "Just a couple things. I kind of like stories and pictures where people get tied up by things. Whatever kinds of things. That's all, I guess."

"Great. That's great. You said it, so I can say it," Connie said, very much hyping herself up. He had seen her do the same before particularly challenging sparring matches. He tried not to smile, surprised at how giddy he felt. This was _adorable_. He had no idea what the big deal was, but the way her face kept screwing up was just too silly. She pushed herself sitting as well and forced her eyes onto his, and he forced himself not to look amused. "I... I also like tied up stuff. Specifically me. Me being tied up. Maybe that’s too much work or something though, I don’t-"

He cut her off happily. "I can tie you up. I’d probably like to see that."

She made a very strange sound, face still red, and Steven bit his lip to hold back a giggle. She really was getting worked up over all this stuff. He looked her up and down, and it suddenly clicked into place. That was _arousal_ . Attraction. He had seen it plenty when they were in the heat of things, a few times when he had accidentally done something she found hot, but he hadn’t realized a comment as small as _I can tie you up_ would be enough to get her flustered like that, enough that it took her a bit to continue: "And while I'm tied up, if you wanted to, uh... Just sort of use me like a toy, while you did other stuff, that would be cool."

Again, he fought the urge to giggle. "You want me to _ignore_ you? Isn’t that kind of the opposite of sex?"

"That's a strong word!" she squeaked, all the more worked up from that. "It's not really ignoring someone if you're playing with, I don't know, a remote control vibrator. Even if you're watching a movie or something!"

"So you want me to tie you up and pretend I don't care," he said slowly, his hands vaguely gestured towards her. "While I just sort of... Make you go crazy while you're stuck."

She laughed nervously. "It seems like a great way to work of this whole no sexual attraction thing, right? You can keep yourself entertained with other stuff so it’s not too much trouble."

"Tell me more," he insisted. "Not just the stuff you think would work better for me."

"There's no more!"

None of _that_. Steven barely grabbed his temper before he got worked up, but he couldn’t stand her looking straight at him and lying, especially when she did it so badly. But that was okay, she didn’t mean it. She wasn’t trying to disrespect him. Just like when he hid his questioning feelings over being asexual, or how he held onto the idea of trying to be poly for her, it was all because she was scared. He took her hand, looking firmly into her eyes. "If you don't want to talk, you can say that. But don't lie, Connie. No matter what, I’m going to be here. You can tell me anything."

She cringed, looking away. “I’m sorry. I can’t make myself say it.”

“Connie,” he murmured, rubbing her back. “I promise I won’t judge you for it. Just tell me.”

She took a deep breath, then suddenly snagged her phone from the nightstand. She grabbed his as well, shoving it into his hands. She turned her back to him, tugging her knees to her chest as she typed away, and a few moments later his phone began to buzz as the texts came in: _I want rules about how and when I can orgasm. I want you to be in charge. I want you to tease me. I want you to use your strength to overpower me. I want to be your servant, however you want me. And I know you don't want me in a sexual way, but if you just wanted to find it funny and cute that I'm all worked up, that works too. And I want lots of praise about how great I'm doing and how much you love me._

Steven read those for a bit, then asked out loud, “What’s the difference between what I was doing before and the praise you want?”

There was a couple sounds from her, trying to speak, and then a miserable sigh and another text: _You talked about me like I was your whole world, like you wanted to kneel at my feet. But I still feel like I should be kneeling at yours. I want to be praised, not worshipped._

He thought about that, ran through years of erotica and porn he had browsed for experimentation and to deal with his occasional libido. He cast out most of it, because he definitely didn’t want to be mean, and tried to find something in the middle. He scooted closer, wrapped his arms around her from behind and whispered softly in her ear, "You did very good, Connie. I'm proud of you."

Instantly, he got a heated whine and a shiver. Yup. That was the missing piece. And that was _better_. Even he liked it better. A few words were making her much more squirmy and gasping than half an hour between her legs. Steven tried a little more.

"I'm in charge. So you're going to listen to what I say right?" he murmured, his fingers slowly tracing up her back. She nodded a little, shivering from under his gentle touch. That was so responsive. He bent his fingers so his nails scratched across the skin, and she gasped for him. Better. So much better. Steven thought for a minute, then said curiously, "Don't move, Connie. That's an order." 

He let his hand slide up her front, watching her muscles twitch wherever his hand went. Her breathing came harder, and he looked curiously at the flush on her face. It was the same, wasn't it? Same actions. Same motions. But something was different for her. 

His jaw was sore, but he lowered his head to take her nipple in his mouth, something that always seemed to get a little reaction out of her. She hissed in pleasured surprise, jerking once before going still again like had had asked. His tongue swirled, teeth nipped, and Connie cried out for him, whimpering his name more needfully than he had ever managed before.

He leaned back, eyes a little wide. This was _so_ much easier. What else could he do? Did it have to be sexual? He loved sparring with her, wrestling with her, but he always had to hold back. This time, he didn't. He snagged her two wrists and used his weight, pushing her down onto the bed. If she fought him at all, even in surprise, he hadn't felt it. He sat on her hips, trapping her arms above her head.

Her hips canted up against his with a desperate please of his name, before she went still under him with a nervous giggle. "S-sorry. Won't move again, Steven."

Right. He had forgotten that. But _she_ hadn't. She looked so cute, her eyes a little wide and nervous, but flushed with excitement. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps, like she'd been running, and he'd barely done anything at all. But she was still trying hard to follow the rule, even as he made it harder and harder for her to do so. That was pleasant too. Not in a sexual way, he was pretty sure, but satisfying. 

That deserved praise didn't it? He leaned down and softly kissed her forehead. "That's okay. It's the first time. You're being a very good girl, Connie."

She groaned desperately beneath him. He barely bit back another laugh and carefully let his weight grind against her. She was huffing, panting, squirming with every little rock of his hips, more of a reaction from these tiny motions than half an hour between her legs. He couldn't stop his voice from sounding teasing, "Are you going to finish this time? Is this what you were missing?"

"Ye-ah," she groaned, her voice somehow breaking the word into two syllables. Her hips moved back against his, and he felt pride starting to curl up in his chest. _Finally_. "G-gonna cum, I think? Never came without my hands. Oh, stars." 

He reached down, stroking her cheek softly and looking at her half-lidded, hazy eyes, her parted lips. She felt good. He did that. He made her stutter and made her voice all wobbly with good feelings. He did all of that, without any sexual desire on his part. Steven murmured to her, "That's my good girl. Cum for me. I want to make you feel good."

Her voice broke, cracking as she rocked and trembled under him. It went so much longer than he thought, none of the pained squeak that so quickly made them yank away the wand when they forced an orgasm from her. This one was slow, little silly babbling words coming from her lips along with the grunts and moans. It was odd to see her so animalistic. Nice, too. Like a job well done. 

And a few minutes later, he was gifted with Connie’s exhausted, still twitching form snuggled up close to him, all her happy noises from the interlude still ringing in his ears. His fingers stroked through her hair as he mused on it. She was hers, however he wanted her. He could control how she touched him. He could control how he touched her, how _long_ he touched her and where. He had expected that to feel uncomfortable or mean, but it felt safe. And with her fuzzy with bliss and snuggled up beside him, he felt like he was really making her happy, too.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad at this sex stuff after all.


	3. I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Connie find ways to say I love you.

“Okay, you have to tell me if it’s too much, alright?” Connie said. Her back was to the door of their home, the delicious smell of dinner already wafting out from a cracked window. She had texted him about it all day, promising him that she was going to give him the most romantic night he could stand (or that she could stand), and he was practically bouncing as he waited for her to let him inside. “I don’t really get this stuff, but I think I did everything you like. Promise to tell me if anything’s weird?”

He took her hands and kissed between her brows, feeling them move as she started to smile from the loving touch. “I’m sure it’s going to be perfect. Show me.”

She led him inside to their dining room. She’d lit the place with candles, set up a vase with daffodils in the center of the table. One of his favorite meals, a spicy vegetarian stir fry, had been laid out just minutes before she had let him in, and at each of their seats was a pretty pink drink - sugary strawberry daiquiris that he preferred to bitter wins. He pointed to the surprising choice of beverage and she explained, “Nonalcoholic, since we’re talking about important stuff tonight. But that won’t affect the rest of dinner.”

“What do you mean?”

She elbowed him gently. “The sex stuff, silly. That’s for later. Dinner is for us, the romance you like. And I’m just really happy to spend the night with my best friend. So? What do you say, Biscuit? Good job?”

“Yeah! Great job!” He laughed and caught her lips in a gentle kiss before they took their places at the table. He always liked to kiss her, though he didn’t think it was much better than cuddling or holding hands.

Their conversation started slow, a few compliments for dinner, admiring the view, before they settled into easy conversation. Having a nice night with Connie was always easy. Lazy smiles and eager talks about college classes, weekend plans, friends and family, all moving smoothly from earlier talks of her hard work. But things always circled back, because Steven had to giggle as he talked around the flower pot, and they eventually gave up on it and set it aside so they could focus on each other. The talk slid back to romance.

“You really don’t like any of this stuff?” Steven asked, gesturing to the decorations. “We’ve talk about romance before, and you…”

“Have done some research,” she finished. She hesitated, then said, “I don’t really get flowers and candles and that stuff. I never have. It’s not really the kind of stuff I’m into, you know? But that’s not really aromantic. That’s just… interests. It’s a small part of it. Some people include it in being aromantic, but you don’t actually have to hate the idea of dating to qualify. Aromantic usually refers to romantic attraction, which is hard to pin down. I guess I might call it infatuation?”

“Like a crush?” Steven said with a giggle.

She looked relieved. “Exactly. That thing they describe in books, where you get kind of heart fluttery? Anxious. You get dreamy and fuzzy thinking about that romantic person. It’s sort of like an obsession, but one everything thinks feels really nice and good. Or at least, what most people think feels really nice and good. You can’t stop thinking about them, but not just in a sexy way. Like a really dating kind of way, I guess.” Connie paused for a second, then grinned and joked, “You know, the part of the book I always find really boring and skip.”

He smiled with a happy sigh and propped his hand up on his chin.. “Yeah. I remember getting that way when I first met you. Still do sometimes.”

"O-oh. You do?” Her eyes widened slightly, and the relief he had seen earlier suddenly slipped away. “I thought maybe you might just like all the flowers and stuff for aesthetic reasons. But you’re just ace for sure? Not aro ace?”

“Guess so, if that’s what aro is about.” He laughed and turned back to his meal, already scraping the plate clean of the spicy, garlicky sauce. “At last we can enjoy that in the same way.”

“Yeah!” she said quickly, looking down at her plate. She pushed around her stir fry, much less eaten than his. Under the table, out of his sight, her leg bounced with nerves. “We’ve got that. And romantic attraction is weird anyway. Even the websites aren’t sure how to define it. How do you even really know whether you feel it or not? What really matters is that I love you, and I love spending time with you, and that’s never going to change.”

“Every day I spend with you is a gift,” Steven winked as she blushed, and they went back to their flirtatious, romantic dinner. Steven barely noticed how frequently Connie insisted on emphasizing how much she loved him, just basked in the attention. Or he tried to, at last. Every time he was reminded that the romance was for him, he felt a little bit off. A little bit guilty. She had worked so hard, had kept sex stuff completely out of the conversation, and he wasn’t really sure he was doing enough to pay her back.

After dinner, they munched on ice cream sandwiches back to back so Connie could talk about sex without being too embarrassed. “So, I think a good place to start would be stuff where I can get off without bugging you too much, so that way you don’t have to feel weird about not having sex with me all the time.”

He agreed uncertainly, “So far so good.”

“The first one might be a bit of work at the beginning but It’ll be no work later,” she continued on cheerfully, not noticing his discomfort. “I’ll give you some of my favorite sexy stories that I normally read when I really got to get off right away and you can record yourself reading them. So I can use those and feel kind of connected to you. And the best part is, once you record it, I can use it over and over again and you don’t have to do anything!”

“That would be a fun thing to try out,” he said, guilt stinging at him harder. “But, Connie, you know that I want to help you. I want to be involved. What else do you want?”

“Oh! Um, you could whisper sexy stuff to me while I get off.” She sucked a finger clean noisily, so he could picture exactly how she licked vanilla off her thumb even though they were back to back. Casual. Calm. Like she wasn’t giving him a list of ways for him to be totally uninvolved in their sex life, like she wasn’t laying out how little she wanted him to be a part of it. “So I’d take care of myself and we could cuddle and then you’d say sexy things to me. You know, if that’s not too much to ask.”

“Too much?” He shook his head and spun around, unable to take it any longer. “Connie, am I… do you like having sex with me?”

Her face wrinkled up with confusion as she shook her head. “Of course I do! Steven, I’m the on asking you to help m get off! Of course I like having sex you you. Why would you think that?”

“Because you’re not asking me to touch you!” he said, his voice starting to climb. “I’m asking what you want and apparently what you want is for me to not be in the room.”

“I’m doing it for you!” she snapped, her voice rising as well. “I’m trying to keep you from the gross stuff! You could thank me, you know!”

Steven growled, fists clenching at his sides, blush rising in his cheeks. “I don’t think sex is gross! I never said that! I like sex! I like making you feel good! You’re cute! I just…” He held up his hands and took a breath. He never liked to be the man who yelled, the one who lost his temper, even if it happened more often than he cared to admit. But with Connie, there wasn’t a good excuse to yell. They could always talk things out. “Okay. Hold on. We’re doing this wrong. Tell me what sexy means to you. Why do you like it?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because it feels good.”

He scoffed. That was Connie. “No, silly, I mean emotionally.”

“Oh. Well, that’s harder.” Of course it was. He smiled a little at his girlfriend as she leaned back against the couch, contemplating that as she chewed her lip and rubbed her chin. Finally, she snapped and sat back up, looking excited by the explanation she had thought up: “Okay! Pretend that I never said I love you.”

He blinked. “What?”

“Hear me out.” She took his hands with a little giggle and continued on, “Pretend I still held your hand and got you gifts. I spent all that time with you, kissed you, called you handsome and pretty. Everything stays exactly the same but I never, ever said I love you. How would that feel?”

That clicked. Steven sighed, nodding along. “Hollow. Empty. Like something was missing. I’d know you loved me, but if I didn’t get to hear it part of me wouldn’t feel it.”

“Exactly.” Connie laughed and rested her forehead against his. “I’m sorry that I’m being so weird with sex and romance. I’m just trying to make this work without either of us getting hurt. I don’t want to make you suffer for me. I love having sex with you. It’s fun and it makes me feel loved, whether you’re doing a lot or doing a little. And, honestly, it’d be nice if I could do stuff back, because right now it feels like you’re trying to be the only one who says I love you. And that makes me feel…”

He picked up where she trailed off, substituting his own feelings. “Guilty.”

“Mmm. At least partly. It’s a lot of feelings.” She confessed quietly, “Greedy. I mostly feel greedy.”

“I’ve been looking at it as something for you, but we’re doing it together. We’re saying I love you. Okay.” He nodded to himself. No more thinking of sex as a Connie activity. No more thinking of it as something he just did for her, with no input of his own. She enjoyed it more, but that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy it at all. He wouldn’t lose his label if she touched him back. Things wouldn’t spiral if they had sex in more standard ways, rather than him standing back. They were in it together, regardless of his lack of attraction. “I think we should start finding our boundaries. Yours and mine. Ready to try a bunch of weird sex stuff and see what gets you going? And what maybe gets me going a little bit?”

She blushed and pushed on his chest. “I know what gets me going. You better promise not to laugh.”

“What if I promise to only laugh a little?” he asked, hands cradling her face with all the tenderness he could muster to soften the joke.

She nuzzled against them, all love and sweetness. “That’s a deal.”


	4. Still Ace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steven and Connie deal with Steven having a fetish while still being asexual.

Like everything they tried, the exploration started with a disaster. Steven offered to explore his kink first, though nerves wracked at him over the confusion of being an asexual person with  _ kinks _ . He usually masturbated once or twice a week, and when he did it was usually to bondage pictures. There was something satisfying about it, something that made him feel warm and safe, that helped him get rid of the nagging arousal.

Connie had said bondage sounded like fun to her, and they had bought more supplies than they could ever need. With plenty of money in the bank account, they couldn’t see any reason not to overprepared. Steven had bound Connie's wrists and ankles in cheap, padded cuffs as an experiment. And he liked it. He got that feeling again, the satisfaction of seeing her bound that sent arousal spiking. He wasn't attracted to  _ her _ , was the tricky thing. He was attracted to the act of binding, the sight of the bound person, without finding the person within the ropes attractive at all.

Her eyes widened, flicking down to his stiffening cock before looking back up to his face. "You like this?" she asked, and the eagerness in her voice made him panic.

He corrected her before it got carried away. "The ropes make me horny, not you."

What an awful way to say it.

She looked away, but not before he saw her eyes shine with tears. Not before he heard her breath catch. She frowned as her fists clenched in the cuffs. "Right. I mean, I wouldn't have known the difference if you hadn't said it."

And what an awful thing to know.

Tension hung in the air as they sorted through bitterness and hurt and anger. Steven groaned, putting his hands to his face. Stupid. He just had to blurt it out, had to fix it, couldn’t just let her have one thing. "You're right. I'm sorry. We could have solved this whole thing if I just kept my mouth shut."

"No!" She shook her head quickly. "I'm sorry! I can't ask you to lie to me about who you are to make me happy."

He sat beside her, legs curling to his chest. They’d been naked together plenty before, but it was always the words that made him feel vulnerable. His voice came out as a tight, holding back tears kind of thing, though he couldn’t feel his eyes sting. "Why not? It's basically the same thing, right? Except it makes you happy if I'm attracted to you  _ and _ the bondage stuff."

"Don't you think you'll get upset? Your whole life, pretending you're something you're not. Lying to me to try to make me happy. Giving up things that I don't know you're giving up. Getting resentful that I don't appreciate the thing I don't know you're doing." She sighed and shook her head at the grim future, and he couldn’t deny that it made sense. He couldn’t deny that even thinking about lying about himself for her made him a little jealous and bitter. She finished for him, "We've gotta be honest. But..."

He swallowed. "But you're feeling too bad and this isn’t working."

"No! I can keep going. Just, um... Could you not talk  _ directly _ about me not making you horny? Soften it a little." She winced at the memory of the words. "The bluntness hurt. I know you needed to say it this time but most times you don't need to. You could be nice about it."

"Cuddles?" he asked softly. She nodded, and he tugged her close to him as he had done countless times before. "You're beautiful and cute and wonderful. I love you so much, and I'm so happy to take care of you, and I love having sex with you."

"Thank you," she whispered. "I love you, and I love the things you do for me, and I'm glad we can get through this together."

He paused for a moment, then said, "I think I'd be comfortable with saying stuff like how sexy you looked in bondage. As long as you know that it's not... As long as you don't forget that I'm ace."

"I won’t ever. But only do it if you're comfortable," she agreed, with a bit of carefully restrained excitement in her eyes. "And only as much as you want."

He smiled and kissed her forehead. then tried to lighten the mood with a tug on her cuffs. "And you, prisoner? What terrible things do you want me to do?"

She flushed. "We’re exploring your stuff, remember? And you still have the text."

"I don't wanna read," he teased. "I think you said something about ignoring you? How does that work?"

"It's hard to explain." She shifted uncomfortably, looking away from him again. "I... I like the idea of being ignored or abandoned because it's such a relief when you come back. Or if it looks like you're ignoring me, but you're still playing with me somehow. L-like you never forget me, and you won't leave me again."

He swallowed, a bit of guilt curling in his gut. "Oh."

She nodded. "Mmm."

Steven hesitated, then said, "I like seeing you tied up because it feels like you can't leave me. I still get scared about that a lot - about you leaving. I know you won't, but I can't help it. Seeing you tied up feels weirdly... Safe."

She put her hands to her face and burst into concerned giggles. "Oh, geez. Maybe we need more therapy. Once a month might be too low."

"Or maybe we can have sex to cope." He said with a laugh. "I think lots of people do! And we’re exploring, right? We just did some great verbal exploring. So, why don’t we do what we came from and explore me… physically."

Connie nodded as she looked him over. "Whatever you're comfortable with. I can start touching you now, with me all tied up like this, and you can tell me to stop or move or anything you want." 

“I feel safer with you tied. Less pressure. Just tell me if you need help with anything, okay? It’s not…” Steven hesitated as he tried to explain. He was in charge, and he was in control, but only in a friendly way. In a him setting boundaries way. He wasn’t  _ really _ in charge. He settled for, “We’re not  _ really _ doing the dom/sub thing right now.”

Connie agreed and they melted into a kiss. Steven’s hands rested on her hips, and when her bound hands braced against his chest there was a quiet sense of safety in the limitation. As her hands wandered, and his head was filled with the reassuring knowledge that Connie understood his label as thoroughly as he did. He finally felt himself able to relax under her touch.

He leaned up against the headboard and caressed her hair as her mouth traced down his neck. Her teeth found his neck and pressure increased until it started to sting. He murmured “no pain”, and in an instant the pressure was back to pleasantness as she continued her path down his chest. Safety. Immediate response. No guilt at all.

Gentle touches, rougher massage, and everything seemed to flow into the pleasant place cuddling had always been for him. There seemed to be no place on his body her hands couldn’t wander - even soft touches over his cock and balls didn’t bring discomfort or confusion. The sound of the leather cuffs over his skin, the sight of the ropes, and her firm but not demanding touch even had him hard in her hand.

For a moment, he feared excitement or hope in her eyes, but when she looked up at him she simply asked, “All okay?”

His heart fluttered in his chest as he beamed at her. “Yeah. It’s nice.”

She smiled back. Connie kissed his thigh, kissed the tip of his dick, and even took him into her mouth. He hummed, eyes closing and head falling back. That was fine too. Then her fingers dipped down, touching the hole between his legs, and he twitched hard at a sudden spike of discomfort. “Nothing inside.”

Her hand pulled back, her mouth quickly sliding off him, “No touching either?”

“I mean… it’s not bad?” And it hadn’t really been bad, but having her hands there at all still made him think of her pressing inside, though he knew she never would, and the thought of that was just as awful as the thought of her biting. “I could-”

She cut him off firmly, “Do you like it?” A little nervous, he shook his head, and she reassured, “Then no touching there at all. I’ll survive the lack of anal, Steven, promise.”

Connie moved on because today wasn’t the kind of day where there was pressure on him to cum from her attentions. No vigorous stroking or swallowing him whole or anything like that. She continued her path over his body.

He loved the attention to his thighs and calves, though the first kiss on his feet made him burst into giggles and insist, “No, it’s too weird. I know where my feet have been.”

She laughed, switching to her hands as she teased, “Don’t you  _ wash _ them?”

“I don’t think there’s enough washing in the world to make up for a whole life of flip flops,” he teased back. Though the kiss had been too odd for him, the feel of her hands rubbing his feet was perfect, and he sighed as he flopped back. He was pretty sure foot rubs weren’t exactly what Connie had in mind when it came to sex. “Sorry if that’s not very sexy.”

She giggled, and he could hear a bit of embarrassment in her voice as she explained, “If it’s making you happy, it’s sexy. Doing things because you want me to is just… hot for me.” Then, after a beat, “If you’re comfortable, all of this would be really sexy if you just made orders while I did it. Anything could be sexy if you’re telling me to do it for you.”

“I can do that.” He peeked down at her, the sound of the little chain link between her cuffs making his cock twitch a little. “So, um, is getting tied stressful?”

“Comforting, actually” she said, and raised an eyebrow. “We’ve got the ropes, you know. If you want to see how far we can go.”

He did want to see. With video tutorials and careful knots, an hour of labor had Connie covered in ropes from head to toe. Pretty designs (albeit very sloppy versions of the truly pretty designs they tried to copy), had her patterned from the shoulders down. A few ropes had taken away her ability to move her arms or legs, and Steven waited for her panic to set in, his eyes constantly flicking over to the surgical safety scissors in case of emergency.

But the tighter she was bound, the more relaxed and contented and aroused Connie seemed to get. He was aroused by the whole thing, and he tried to connect it to her body, but it just wouldn’t click. And, at his discomfort, she murmured softly, “We did the research, Steven. You’re allowed to have a fetish. You’re allowed to like it. I know this isn’t you being allo.”

Careful avoidance of the words  _ I know you’re not attracted to me _ , but reassuring nevertheless. Painless for her, comforting for him. Like a picture or a video, Steven took in the sight of her as his hand wrapped around himself, deciding to try to relieve the arousal he always found mildly enjoyable but not pressing, and was surprised to find the orgasm came quick and easy, without the usual discomfort or confusion from the feeling.

He swallowed as he looked at her, shaking a little. “T-too intense for you?”

She grinned and shook her head. “Nah. Let’s keep going.”

And it rapidly spiraled out from there.

**Author's Note:**

> So, here's some fluffy relationship stuff. I've got some little drabbles and ideas planned. But if there's anything you'd like to see, especially if you're ace yourself and want to see something represented, let me know. I'd love to try and make this as comforting for you as possible.
> 
> You're valid and loved. <3


End file.
